| General Fiction posted September 20, 2024 | Chapters: |
...25 26 -27- 28... 
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Bits and pieces start to fall together
A chapter in the book Spirited Justice
Spirited Justice Chap 27
by Begin Again
| Background "Beauty, Brawn, or Brains" was a global platform showcasing women's diverse talents, yet murders, accidents, and deceit haunted the pageant worldwide. Was there a common link or merely coincidence? |
Except for the soft hum of the jet engines, the cabin was quiet. Angelo sat motionless. His mind was a storm of grief and guilt. The memory of his friend's murder replayed relentlessly as he questioned why he'd let Carlos face Jose alone. The young man was a wild card, but Angelo never would have guessed he might shoot his own father.
The temperature in the cabin dropped — slowly at first, but steadily enough that Angelo felt a chill creeping in. He straightened and looked around, calling out to the pilot, "Everything okay up there? I like it to be cool, but this is a bit frigid."
"Nothing to worry about, Angelo. We'll get you back to the States safe and sound."
The co-pilot laughed. "I think we left Mexico's heat behind. Have a little whiskey, and it'll warm you up."
"Yeah, it's probably a case of nerves." Angelo opened the small sidebar between the seats and retrieved a miniature bottle of Kentucky Bourbon. He opened it and drank from the bottle — straight, no glass or ice. He inhaled and let the liquor burn.
He exhaled, and his breath formed a faint cloud. His eyes shifted around the cabin. Minutes passed, but there was no sign of anything happening. He frowned. It was improbable, but he sensed Eleanor was near even if the jet was flying five hundred miles per hour at 35,000 feet — if anyone could do it, it would be her.
Finally, Eleanor's shimmering form began to materialize inside the cabin, a little fainter than usual. She glanced around the cabin, collecting herself, and tucked in a few stray wisps of hair. She chuckled. "If I'm going to do that very often, I must invest in a helmet and goggles."
She turned to Angelo, whose mouth was hanging open in disbelief. "What? Weren't you expecting me?"
"I might have thought it, but we're in a jet, Eleanor."
She quipped, "Tell me about it! Apparently, my "airspeed" doesn't quite match up with private jets — though if I must say so myself, not bad for my first attempt."
Angelo felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "Maybe the older models can't compete with modern technology."
Eleanor's eyes narrowed, but she couldn't stop the smile. "Hey, they don't issue boarding passes in the afterlife. I'd like to see you try loading at warp speed." She paused, taking in the luxury jet, then casually added, "Besides, I had to be your carrier pigeon." She tossed the folder on the empty seat. "I think you forgot these."
Angelo glanced at the red folder — Lila Whitaker. "How? You were there?"
"Unfortunately, I arrived too late. Not that anything would have happened differently, but I might have helped you."
Angelo shook his head, letting out a small huff of breath. "I — I couldn't save him."
"Angelo, trust me, if you had been standing between them, you couldn't have saved Carlos. It was meant to happen that way."
"I wanted Jose to suffer for what he did to Naomi, but I promised Carlos it wouldn't be by my hands, so I let him go confront him alone. No way did I think Jose would shoot his own father. Eleanor, I don't know if I can keep going."
Eleanor's face softened as she touched Angelo's shoulder. "You must! You're a survivor. You've come through worse, and others are counting on you."
"Carlos counted on me, and he's dead, and I'm here. What good is that?"
"Maria said he begged you to take the papers."
"With his dying breath, but what's the point? I've got the damn papers, but —"
Before he could finish, Eleanor cut in. "You've got a lot more than just those papers, Angelo. You've got Naomi. She's been calling your name, you know."
Angelo looked up, surprised. "Naomi? But she's still in a coma —"
Eleanor smiled, a mix of sympathy and humor in her expression. "Coma, schoma. She's been calling for you, Angelo. I know what I heard, and she's not giving up. Neither should you."
Angelo blinked, his grief still there but now tangled with the spark of hope. "You really think she's —"
"I don't think — I know," Eleanor said firmly. "She's tougher than you give her credit for. And she's not the only one with more fight left in her."
She glanced out the plane's window as if appreciating the view, then gave him one last grin. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to figure out how to make my entrances and exits more jet-friendly. Can't have this happening every time you get in trouble, can we?"
With that, she gave him a wink and began to fade, leaving Angelo with a faint smile. Even in the darkest moments, Eleanor had a way of lighting up the room. And, for the first time since his friend's death, Angelo felt like maybe, just maybe, things weren't as hopeless as they seemed.
He picked up the papers. "Guess it's about time I find out what all the fuss is about."
The road ahead was still uncertain, but for Naomi's sake and Carlos's, he wasn't giving up — not yet.
*****
"Get out of the way!" Donatelli flipped the vehicle's siren on and off as he tried maneuvering through the growing crowd. "Guess the rubberneckers have nothing better to do this morning than to stand around gawking at nothing."
Two women, deep in conversation, stepped off the curb directly in front of his car, setting off a barrage of muttered curses under his breath. He stopped the car in the middle of the road and climbed out, swallowing his rising anger. "Ladies, this is a crime scene. Can you move it along?"
Both women turned, startled to see him or his vehicle. Visibly flustered, one stammered, "Sorry, sir. I wouldn't park there. See the tape?"
The other woman nodded and lowered her voice, "It's a crime scene. I heard the bank was robbed."
Her friend gasped, clutching her purse. "Oh dear, I hope not. I just deposited my social security check. That's all I got till next month."
Donatelli raised an eyebrow but managed to put on a small smile. "Don't worry, ladies. I've got it on good authority that your money is safe. Could you please move to the other side of the street?"
Danni snickered as the women hurried away, "Aren't you Mr. Tactful?"
The detective sighed, ducking under the yellow crime scene tape that cordoned off the bank entrance. He tossed his keys to the nearest officer. The young officer's face was puzzled as to what was expected of him. Donatelli rolled his eyes. "Find a place for it, will you?"
After almost fumbling the catch, the young man gave a quick nod. "Sure thing, Detective." He tossed the keys in the air as he hustled to move the car.
Amusement danced in Danni's eyes. "You know, I could have parked it."
Without breaking his stride, he smirked. "Right! I can see tomorrow's headlines. A driverless police car leaves the scene of robbery."
Danni laughed. "I suppose you might be right, but it would have been fun."
*****
Inside the bank, chaos existed in every corner. Customers huddled in one corner, looking uneasy, while tellers and other bank employees nervously whispered among themselves behind the counter.
The young woman — the one Alejandro had given the rose — remained at her desk, sobbing, barely able to form a coherent sentence as officers and bank personnel tried to calm her down.
The security guard who had chased Alejandro and fired his weapon several times was paralyzed with fear near the vault door. He had never discharged his gun before, and it showed.
Mr. Chadwick, the bank officer who interrupted Alejandro, paced back and forth. His face was pale, and he muttered to himself repeatedly, replaying the incident in his head.
After the lead officer briefly summarized what was happening, Donatelli moved toward the vault and the key players in the robbery, except for the suspect, who got away. Danni floated at his side.
The young woman sat on a stool behind the counter, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hands trembled as she clutched a crumpled tissue, her breath coming in panicked bursts. Donatelli crouched in front of her, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I need you to tell me what happened, alright? Just start from the beginning."
But the girl was beyond reach, her sobs drowning out the detective's attempts to calm her. She buried her face in her hands, repeating, "I didn't know! I didn't know!" between gasps.
Donatelli, his face etched with frustration, realized he was getting nowhere with the sobbing girl. Time was ticking, and he needed a breakthrough. Just as he turned to call for backup, a soft, familiar voice cut through the chaos.
"Let me handle this."
Having materialized inside the empty vault, Danni now stood in front of him, once again breaking the sacred rule she had adhered to since becoming a spirit. Only Eleanor was allowed to materialize, yet here she stood, solid and human. Her eyes met Donatelli's, and though he opened his mouth to protest, something in her expression made him stop.
Stepping forward, Danni gently placed her arms around the sobbing girl, wrapping her in a warm, motherly embrace. The girl flinched at the touch, then blinked in surprise. She stared at Danni through tears, momentarily confused by the stranger's sudden presence.
"Shhh—Â"" Danni whispered, her voice soft and soothing. "It's okay. Let's go somewhere quieter, away from all this commotion. We'll talk there, alright?"
The girl nodded shakily, feeling an inexplicable sense of comfort in Danni's arms. She allowed Danni to guide her to a small office in the back, away from the chaos of the bank floor.
Donatelli watched as they disappeared, still stunned by Danni's sudden materialization. He shook his head but had no time to dwell on it. His attention shifted to the security guard standing by the vault door, looking pale and visibly shaken. The guard's hand still clutched his gun, his knuckles white.
"Hey," Donatelli called, approaching the guard. "You alright?"
The guard, his eyes wide with fear, turned to face Donatelli. "I — I've never fired it before," he stammered. "I didn't mean to — I just — he was running—" His voice trailed off.
Donatelli raised a hand, trying to calm him. "You did what you had to. Take a breath, and walk me through what happened."
The guard nodded weakly, swallowing hard as he tried to collect himself while Donatelli listened, his mind still flickering back to Danni's sudden, rule-breaking act of kindness.
"It happened so fast. I was talking to Mrs. Kelsy. She's an elderly lady who comes in every morning and withdraws one hundred dollars in ones." He lowered his voice. "It's her daily gambling money — a group of ladies meet in Papa Jake's dining room and play cards." He stopped, and his eyes widened. "Oh gosh, you aren't going to arrest Mrs. Kelsy, are you? Those sweet old ladies don't mean any harm."
"I assure you, I am not interested in their card games. I need to know what happened after you chatted with Mrs. Kelsy."
"Oh yeah. I heard Mr. Chadwick yelling, but I was on the other side of the bank, so I wasn't sure what he was saying. When the alarm went off, and I saw the guy running out of the vault toward the front door, I knew something big was going down. I chased after the guy." The officer rubbed his stomach. "Guess I need to think about working out because he was too fast for me."
Donatelli smiled and patted his stomach. "Me, too." Then he asked, "You fired two shots. Did you hit him?"
"I fired into the air. I wasn't taking any chances of hitting a pedestrian, you know. I thought he might stop if someone fired at him, but no such luck."
"After you fired the gun, what happened?"
"Oh gosh, people started screaming and running in every direction. By the time I got to the corner, two guys were tossing the suspect into a black SUV, and they didn't act like they were his friends. In seconds, the car disappeared down the alley."
"Okay—grab yourself a cup of coffee and stick around in case I have any more questions." Donatelli was interested in the black SUV. He hoped the officers canvassing outside might have a lead on it.
*****
Danni took a deep breath, her mind racing, but she kept calm. She reassured the clerk before wrapping her in a gentle hug. "It's going to be alright," Danni whispered. She pulled back slightly, meeting the woman's tear-filled eyes. "Officer Johnson," she called, motioning to a nearby officer, "take her to the lounge, stay with her until she feels better."
As the clerk was led away, Danni straightened and turned just in time to see Detective Donatelli approaching.
"Get anything?"
"He distracted her with a rose," she said briskly, cutting right to the point. "He had an ID and the key to the safety deposit box — both under Arthur Beckett. Fake, of course."
Donatelli's brow furrowed. "The box belonged to our guy in the morgue? This case gets more interesting by the minute."
Danni grinned. "Then wait till you see what's still in the safe deposit box."
"Show me the way! Before it disappears, too."
"Oh, it's not going anywhere. Mr. Chadwick, the back officer who interrupted our suspect, is guarding it like a mother hen. Sitting down, of course, because otherwise, I think he'd pass out."
"Can't wait!" Donatelli leaned close to Danni. "I kind of like seeing you in person."
Danni nodded. "I like it too!"
"Think we should approach this guy with our guns drawn?"
"Not unless you want to see us both get fired. By the looks of him, he'd probably have a heart attack."
Sharing a moment of relief, they chuckled and entered the vault side by side.
The temperature in the cabin dropped — slowly at first, but steadily enough that Angelo felt a chill creeping in. He straightened and looked around, calling out to the pilot, "Everything okay up there? I like it to be cool, but this is a bit frigid."
"Nothing to worry about, Angelo. We'll get you back to the States safe and sound."
The co-pilot laughed. "I think we left Mexico's heat behind. Have a little whiskey, and it'll warm you up."
"Yeah, it's probably a case of nerves." Angelo opened the small sidebar between the seats and retrieved a miniature bottle of Kentucky Bourbon. He opened it and drank from the bottle — straight, no glass or ice. He inhaled and let the liquor burn.
He exhaled, and his breath formed a faint cloud. His eyes shifted around the cabin. Minutes passed, but there was no sign of anything happening. He frowned. It was improbable, but he sensed Eleanor was near even if the jet was flying five hundred miles per hour at 35,000 feet — if anyone could do it, it would be her.
Finally, Eleanor's shimmering form began to materialize inside the cabin, a little fainter than usual. She glanced around the cabin, collecting herself, and tucked in a few stray wisps of hair. She chuckled. "If I'm going to do that very often, I must invest in a helmet and goggles."
She turned to Angelo, whose mouth was hanging open in disbelief. "What? Weren't you expecting me?"
"I might have thought it, but we're in a jet, Eleanor."
She quipped, "Tell me about it! Apparently, my "airspeed" doesn't quite match up with private jets — though if I must say so myself, not bad for my first attempt."
Angelo felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "Maybe the older models can't compete with modern technology."
Eleanor's eyes narrowed, but she couldn't stop the smile. "Hey, they don't issue boarding passes in the afterlife. I'd like to see you try loading at warp speed." She paused, taking in the luxury jet, then casually added, "Besides, I had to be your carrier pigeon." She tossed the folder on the empty seat. "I think you forgot these."
Angelo glanced at the red folder — Lila Whitaker. "How? You were there?"
"Unfortunately, I arrived too late. Not that anything would have happened differently, but I might have helped you."
Angelo shook his head, letting out a small huff of breath. "I — I couldn't save him."
"Angelo, trust me, if you had been standing between them, you couldn't have saved Carlos. It was meant to happen that way."
"I wanted Jose to suffer for what he did to Naomi, but I promised Carlos it wouldn't be by my hands, so I let him go confront him alone. No way did I think Jose would shoot his own father. Eleanor, I don't know if I can keep going."
Eleanor's face softened as she touched Angelo's shoulder. "You must! You're a survivor. You've come through worse, and others are counting on you."
"Carlos counted on me, and he's dead, and I'm here. What good is that?"
"Maria said he begged you to take the papers."
"With his dying breath, but what's the point? I've got the damn papers, but —"
Before he could finish, Eleanor cut in. "You've got a lot more than just those papers, Angelo. You've got Naomi. She's been calling your name, you know."
Angelo looked up, surprised. "Naomi? But she's still in a coma —"
Eleanor smiled, a mix of sympathy and humor in her expression. "Coma, schoma. She's been calling for you, Angelo. I know what I heard, and she's not giving up. Neither should you."
Angelo blinked, his grief still there but now tangled with the spark of hope. "You really think she's —"
"I don't think — I know," Eleanor said firmly. "She's tougher than you give her credit for. And she's not the only one with more fight left in her."
She glanced out the plane's window as if appreciating the view, then gave him one last grin. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to figure out how to make my entrances and exits more jet-friendly. Can't have this happening every time you get in trouble, can we?"
With that, she gave him a wink and began to fade, leaving Angelo with a faint smile. Even in the darkest moments, Eleanor had a way of lighting up the room. And, for the first time since his friend's death, Angelo felt like maybe, just maybe, things weren't as hopeless as they seemed.
He picked up the papers. "Guess it's about time I find out what all the fuss is about."
The road ahead was still uncertain, but for Naomi's sake and Carlos's, he wasn't giving up — not yet.
*****
"Get out of the way!" Donatelli flipped the vehicle's siren on and off as he tried maneuvering through the growing crowd. "Guess the rubberneckers have nothing better to do this morning than to stand around gawking at nothing."
Two women, deep in conversation, stepped off the curb directly in front of his car, setting off a barrage of muttered curses under his breath. He stopped the car in the middle of the road and climbed out, swallowing his rising anger. "Ladies, this is a crime scene. Can you move it along?"
Both women turned, startled to see him or his vehicle. Visibly flustered, one stammered, "Sorry, sir. I wouldn't park there. See the tape?"
The other woman nodded and lowered her voice, "It's a crime scene. I heard the bank was robbed."
Her friend gasped, clutching her purse. "Oh dear, I hope not. I just deposited my social security check. That's all I got till next month."
Donatelli raised an eyebrow but managed to put on a small smile. "Don't worry, ladies. I've got it on good authority that your money is safe. Could you please move to the other side of the street?"
Danni snickered as the women hurried away, "Aren't you Mr. Tactful?"
The detective sighed, ducking under the yellow crime scene tape that cordoned off the bank entrance. He tossed his keys to the nearest officer. The young officer's face was puzzled as to what was expected of him. Donatelli rolled his eyes. "Find a place for it, will you?"
After almost fumbling the catch, the young man gave a quick nod. "Sure thing, Detective." He tossed the keys in the air as he hustled to move the car.
Amusement danced in Danni's eyes. "You know, I could have parked it."
Without breaking his stride, he smirked. "Right! I can see tomorrow's headlines. A driverless police car leaves the scene of robbery."
Danni laughed. "I suppose you might be right, but it would have been fun."
*****
Inside the bank, chaos existed in every corner. Customers huddled in one corner, looking uneasy, while tellers and other bank employees nervously whispered among themselves behind the counter.
The young woman — the one Alejandro had given the rose — remained at her desk, sobbing, barely able to form a coherent sentence as officers and bank personnel tried to calm her down.
The security guard who had chased Alejandro and fired his weapon several times was paralyzed with fear near the vault door. He had never discharged his gun before, and it showed.
Mr. Chadwick, the bank officer who interrupted Alejandro, paced back and forth. His face was pale, and he muttered to himself repeatedly, replaying the incident in his head.
After the lead officer briefly summarized what was happening, Donatelli moved toward the vault and the key players in the robbery, except for the suspect, who got away. Danni floated at his side.
The young woman sat on a stool behind the counter, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hands trembled as she clutched a crumpled tissue, her breath coming in panicked bursts. Donatelli crouched in front of her, trying to keep his voice steady.
"I need you to tell me what happened, alright? Just start from the beginning."
But the girl was beyond reach, her sobs drowning out the detective's attempts to calm her. She buried her face in her hands, repeating, "I didn't know! I didn't know!" between gasps.
Donatelli, his face etched with frustration, realized he was getting nowhere with the sobbing girl. Time was ticking, and he needed a breakthrough. Just as he turned to call for backup, a soft, familiar voice cut through the chaos.
"Let me handle this."
Having materialized inside the empty vault, Danni now stood in front of him, once again breaking the sacred rule she had adhered to since becoming a spirit. Only Eleanor was allowed to materialize, yet here she stood, solid and human. Her eyes met Donatelli's, and though he opened his mouth to protest, something in her expression made him stop.
Stepping forward, Danni gently placed her arms around the sobbing girl, wrapping her in a warm, motherly embrace. The girl flinched at the touch, then blinked in surprise. She stared at Danni through tears, momentarily confused by the stranger's sudden presence.
"Shhh—Â"" Danni whispered, her voice soft and soothing. "It's okay. Let's go somewhere quieter, away from all this commotion. We'll talk there, alright?"
The girl nodded shakily, feeling an inexplicable sense of comfort in Danni's arms. She allowed Danni to guide her to a small office in the back, away from the chaos of the bank floor.
Donatelli watched as they disappeared, still stunned by Danni's sudden materialization. He shook his head but had no time to dwell on it. His attention shifted to the security guard standing by the vault door, looking pale and visibly shaken. The guard's hand still clutched his gun, his knuckles white.
"Hey," Donatelli called, approaching the guard. "You alright?"
The guard, his eyes wide with fear, turned to face Donatelli. "I — I've never fired it before," he stammered. "I didn't mean to — I just — he was running—" His voice trailed off.
Donatelli raised a hand, trying to calm him. "You did what you had to. Take a breath, and walk me through what happened."
The guard nodded weakly, swallowing hard as he tried to collect himself while Donatelli listened, his mind still flickering back to Danni's sudden, rule-breaking act of kindness.
"It happened so fast. I was talking to Mrs. Kelsy. She's an elderly lady who comes in every morning and withdraws one hundred dollars in ones." He lowered his voice. "It's her daily gambling money — a group of ladies meet in Papa Jake's dining room and play cards." He stopped, and his eyes widened. "Oh gosh, you aren't going to arrest Mrs. Kelsy, are you? Those sweet old ladies don't mean any harm."
"I assure you, I am not interested in their card games. I need to know what happened after you chatted with Mrs. Kelsy."
"Oh yeah. I heard Mr. Chadwick yelling, but I was on the other side of the bank, so I wasn't sure what he was saying. When the alarm went off, and I saw the guy running out of the vault toward the front door, I knew something big was going down. I chased after the guy." The officer rubbed his stomach. "Guess I need to think about working out because he was too fast for me."
Donatelli smiled and patted his stomach. "Me, too." Then he asked, "You fired two shots. Did you hit him?"
"I fired into the air. I wasn't taking any chances of hitting a pedestrian, you know. I thought he might stop if someone fired at him, but no such luck."
"After you fired the gun, what happened?"
"Oh gosh, people started screaming and running in every direction. By the time I got to the corner, two guys were tossing the suspect into a black SUV, and they didn't act like they were his friends. In seconds, the car disappeared down the alley."
"Okay—grab yourself a cup of coffee and stick around in case I have any more questions." Donatelli was interested in the black SUV. He hoped the officers canvassing outside might have a lead on it.
*****
Danni took a deep breath, her mind racing, but she kept calm. She reassured the clerk before wrapping her in a gentle hug. "It's going to be alright," Danni whispered. She pulled back slightly, meeting the woman's tear-filled eyes. "Officer Johnson," she called, motioning to a nearby officer, "take her to the lounge, stay with her until she feels better."
As the clerk was led away, Danni straightened and turned just in time to see Detective Donatelli approaching.
"Get anything?"
"He distracted her with a rose," she said briskly, cutting right to the point. "He had an ID and the key to the safety deposit box — both under Arthur Beckett. Fake, of course."
Donatelli's brow furrowed. "The box belonged to our guy in the morgue? This case gets more interesting by the minute."
Danni grinned. "Then wait till you see what's still in the safe deposit box."
"Show me the way! Before it disappears, too."
"Oh, it's not going anywhere. Mr. Chadwick, the back officer who interrupted our suspect, is guarding it like a mother hen. Sitting down, of course, because otherwise, I think he'd pass out."
"Can't wait!" Donatelli leaned close to Danni. "I kind of like seeing you in person."
Danni nodded. "I like it too!"
"Think we should approach this guy with our guns drawn?"
"Not unless you want to see us both get fired. By the looks of him, he'd probably have a heart attack."
Sharing a moment of relief, they chuckled and entered the vault side by side.
Danielle "Danni" Delahanty -- Ghost Detective
Eleanor Bennett -- Beloved Ghost Advisor
Matthew Donatelli -- Detective
Jenna Bradford -- Journalist and Pageant Consultant
Naomi Henderson -- Lawyer/ex-lover of Donatelli -
Arthur Beckett - deceased lawyer, friend, and enemy of Naomi
Patti Beckett - ex-wife from a nasty divorce
Hilda - a pageant contestant and medical researcher
Klaus - Hilda's older brother and protector
Johan - a supposed friend of Hilda's family with a connection to Jose
Angelo Carter - a private investigator with a dark side
Carlos Hernandez - a Mexican landowner with power
Jose Hernandez - Carlos's son - a reckless playboy
Alejandro - Jose's childhood friend
Garth Woodman - FBI Agent
Tango and Poppa - FBI agents under Garth
Allie - his love who died of cancer (an investigative reporter)
Dr. Rosa Galotti -- Morgue Medical Examiner
Emily - Jenna's faithful assistant
Lila - a pageant contestant who was murdered for her research
Thomas Whitaker - Lila's father
Sophia - Lila's sister (blind)
Max - Sophia's best friend and guide dog
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